


Blind Date

by aubzylynn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blind Date, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Kinda, Strangers to Lovers, seriously, slight AU, sorta - Freeform, such a fluff fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubzylynn/pseuds/aubzylynn
Summary: Your best friend set you up on a blind date, but he never shows. Bucky was also set up on a blind date who didn't show up. Well, since you both got stood up, you might as well go on this date together, right?





	Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> Takin' a swing at posting my work here! Hope you guys enjoy!

You walk into the restaurant, the smell of garlic heavily hitting your nose. The nervous squirming in your stomach seemed to intensify as you looked around the little waiting area. You don’t see anyone that could be your date. Maybe you’ve just gotten here before him. A line has formed in front of the hostess stand, so you wait and take in the country Italian decorations, smiling fondly at old photographs hanging on the wall. You wait behind a couple and survey the bustling restaurant. Your friend had said that it was a busy little place. She wasn’t kidding.

With a sigh, the hostess forces a smile back on her face as you approach. You soften and smile reassuringly. You’ve worked customer service jobs before. You knew how awful they could be. “Hi, how many?” she asks.

“Hi. I, uh. We actually had a reservation for two. Uh, for Matthew?”

She typed the name into the computer and nods upon finding your date’s name. “Yes, we’ve got you down. It should be about fifteen-twenty minutes until a table is available. You can wait at the bar, if you’d like?”

You smiled at her sincerely. “Thank you, I appreciate you.”

Her Barbie doll features faltered for a second as she took in your words. You know first hand how rare it was to hear things like that. You always tried to be kinder than necessary. She nods to herself before mumbling a more sincere thank you. Tossing a wink her way, you make your way towards the bar.

You settle up on one of the bar stools and order a Bellini, gaping at the glass size as the bartender brings the swirled frozen drink to you. Sipping on it leisurely, you start to people watch and hope that Matthew shows up soon.

You’re watching a mother cut up noodles and chicken from her plate to give to her toddler. The child is so ecstatic, she’s hitting the table with a fork and her cup. The mom looks around, embarrassed, and tries to calm the toddler, who starts shrieking happily. You giggle and wave as you catch the child’s eye.

There’s fingers tapping your arm hesitantly, pulling your attention away from the toddler. “Evelyn?”

You turn towards the smooth, deep voice, and stop in your tracks completely. You know you’re staring before you even start. This man is possibly the most gorgeous human being you’ve ever seen. Dark hair slicked back; bright, hopeful blue-gray eyes and cheekbones and a jawline to die for. His face was encased in a very light dusting of stubble. You snap yourself out of it before you start drooling. “No, sorry.”

His features fall slightly as he removes his hand from your shoulder, and you suddenly miss his touch. You desperately need him to stay. “You’re not Matthew, by chance?” Your brows contract as you grin hopefully.

He smiles as he drops his gaze to his feet; and, damn it, he has some lines around his eyes that somehow make him more attractive. “No, sorry,” he repeats. He glances around the bar, seeing no other single ladies waiting that could be Evelyn. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

You had been sipping your drink, and pulled the straw quickly from your lips. “Absolutely, go ahead.” You wave your hand to the seat next to you for emphasis. He sits, groaning lightly as he pulls a drink menu towards himself. You watch him – discreetly, you hope – as he ordered his drink. He looked dashing (honestly, who are you? Using a word like ‘dashing?’) in the dark gray suit he’s wearing. Underneath, you see a teal shirt and black tie, and that shirt is definitely doing wonders for those eyes. You notice his left hand clenched in his lap, looking like he’s wearing a glove..? That’s a bit odd. “Blind date?” you ask, needing to hear his velvety voice again.

He turns towards you smiling, seeming surprised that you wanted to strike up a conversation with him. He thanks the bartender for his drink before answering. “Uh, yeah. My, uh, friend set me up with this dame–uh, this friend of his.”

Dame? Who says that anymore? (Who are you to judge? You’d just described him as dashing.) You look at him curiously for his word choice and decide to not address it. Poor guy seems nervous enough as it is. “I’m in the same boat. My best friend’s fiancee’s cousin, or something. I’ve never actually met the guy.”

“I’m Bucky.” He turns towards you slightly and offers his hand for you to shake.

You smile and tell him your name. You can’t help but think his name suits him. You fit your hand into his and gasp softly as you feel a spark travel up your arm as his hand closes around yours. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of name is Bucky?”

He chuckles, glancing down to your entwined hands. “It’s a nickname.” He leaves it at that, and you’re striking up any question you can think of to get him talking. He’s so intriguing! You find out that he’s from Brooklyn, a stone’s throw from your childhood home in Queens. After a top-off on your drinks, you look around the bar. Neither of your dates has showed up.

“I think we got stood up, Bucky,” you say, glancing at your phone. “It’s been – oh, wow! It’s been nearly half an hour.”

“Okay, how about this?” he turns to face you, jaw tilting forward a little smugly. “If neither of our dates show up by the time we finish our drinks, we’ll go on this date together.”

You bite your lip and blush, nodding at his proposal because you really don’t trust your voice at the moment.

You don’t want to say that you wish you’d ordered a smaller drink, but you wished you’d ordered a smaller drink. You desperately start sending prayers up to whichever deity would listen that Matthew and Evelyn would never show. Five more minutes tick by, and a hostess is coming around the bar, calling, “Matthew, party of two!”

Bucky laughs warmly as you duck your head down and bite the seam of your lips to contain a smile. “You look like you don’t want to be found.”

You watch as the hostess goes back up to the front of the restaurant. “No point in going if Matthew stood me up, right?”

He smiles, shakes his head, and opens his mouth to speak, but is cut short by the same hostess saying, “Bucky, party of two!”

He grins at you and it nearly stops your heart. “Yeah! We’re right here!” Hopping off the barstool, he holds his hand out to help you down. Your heart swells in gratitude at the simple action. Most men wouldn’t think to do that. You take his hand and hop off the stool, grabbing your drink in the other hand.

You fully expected Bucky to release your hand once you were walking beside him; but he intertwines your fingers and tucks your arm against his chest, the back of your hand resting against his sternum. Endearment swallowed you whole. But, what really got you was when he reluctantly released your hand to pull your chair out for you. He beams as you took your seat, you blush and mumble out a word of thanks. He shuffles to the adjacent side of the table and takes his seat, thanking the hostess for seating you both.

You stare at him in awe. He seemed like the perfect gentleman – well, most men did on the first date. But, Bucky. His actions weren’t forced, or a last minute reminder. They were genuine. They were engraved into his being, and that was incredibly rare to find.

You’ve never been so happy to have been stood up on a date.

After the hostess leaves, there’s a beat of silence and awkwardness floods your system. You just agreed to go on a date with a guy you just met. What if he turned out to be some kind of handsome serial killer? Or what if this gentleman persona was just a front and once he lures you in, he’ll be a complete and total jackass? Would you be able to leave him? He’s just so pretty–dear God, are you really that shallow? No, you’re not. You’re losing yourself in your head. Stop it. Bucky has been nothing but kind and charming since you met him.

Your eyes meet his and he smiles reassuringly at you. Did he see your uneasiness? You run your fingers through your hair and smile back. “I, uh,” you clear your throat, cursing how nervous you sound. “I haven’t been on many dates. I’m not sure I really know what to do…or talk about.”

He chuckles, dropping his gaze to the table and shaking his head. It’s incredibly endearing. “Well, we’re in the same boat, then. It’s been…awhile since I’ve dated.” He looks bashfully up at you through his lashes. He seems just as nervous as you feel.

It’s your turn to laugh nervously, feeling a light blush pool in your cheeks. The moment is cut short when your waiter comes to take your drink order. He goes over the menu with you both, attentive as ever, and takes your order once you’ve both decided.

Alone again. Shy, awkward smiles are exchanged before Bucky straightens and takes a sip of his drink. “So, where do you work?”

And just like that, you’re both talking like you had been at the bar.

You tell him about the kids you work with, the things you teach them. When you start delving into stories about each individual kid, you know you’re absolutely gushing about them. He doesn’t know these kids! He doesn’t need to know that Adalyn loves it when you do her hair (even though her mom probably hates taking out your intricate designs every night); or that the twins in your class, Isabella and Victoria, couldn’t be more different in every way; or that Michael and Carson have been best friends since they started school together.

You lick your bottom lip nervously before drawing it between your teeth and duck your head sheepishly. “Sorry, I ramble a lot about my kids.” Releasing a breathy chuckle, you sneak a peek at Bucky through your lashes. “Where do you work?” You ask quickly. “What do you do?”

Bucky’s smile is contagious and affectionate. Heat pools in your cheeks the longer he looks at you. “I’ve started a new job recently,” he starts, lacing his fingers in front of himself. “I work with a team in a specialized division of law enforcement.”

“Oh, wow,” your chin plops into your hand, leaning your weight into your elbow that’s propped on the table. “So, what is your job specifically?”

“I maintain close visual contact with the enemy from concealed positions or distances exceeding the detection capabilities of the opposing forces’ personnel.”

“So, you’re a sniper?” you ask, drawing a smile and nod from Bucky. “Wow, that’s gotta be pretty dangerous.”

“It can be.” He agrees.

Aaand just like that, you’re brain short circuits, leaving you without a clue of what to talk to him about. You both come from such different worlds, what could you talk about?! You didn’t know anything about military strategy or guns. You’ll just embarrass yourself again if you start talking about kids.

You steal another glance of Bucky to find him smiling shyly back at you, like he’s hoping his job doesn’t scare you away. You laugh internally at the thought. If anything, the danger of his job somehow makes him more appealing. You don’t want to lose him simply because you don’t know what to talk about–that’s just ridiculous. If you can have a conversation with a three year old about Thomas the train, then you can talk to Bucky about anything, damn it!

You clear your throat, raking your fingers through the ends of your hair. “So, Bucky, have you ever played a game of hypotheticals?”

He smiles at you curiously, displaying his pretty white teeth. “No, can’t say that I have.”

You straighten, excited for the possibilities. It has to show on your face, because Bucky’s smile is instantly brighter as he sees your unspoken enthusiasm. “Basically, we’ll ask each other hypothetical questions. It’s just a fun way to get to know each other.”

His grin makes your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, okay. You start, Doll.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the nickname. It was such an obscure endearment, but you felt the affection behind it. Bucky’s nervous and slightly embarrassed smile didn’t help the hammering of your heart. “Hypotheticals. Um,” you smile inwardly, adoring that you’re making him just as nervous as he makes you. “If your house was on fire…and everyone, including pets, is getting out alive without your help, and you could only save one thing, what would it be?”

His brow creases as he scans the table in thought. You smile, eyes trained on him, as he processes through his answer. His eyes find yours and the intensity of his cerulean gaze nearly knocks the breath out of you. “Everyone makes it out alive?”

“Everyone.” You repeat with a gentle smile.

A weight seems to evaporate off him in this hypothetical relief. You find it curious. Who is he thinking of that he would need to save? His gaze drifts back down to his drink before he nods and smiles a bit to himself. You smile to yourself as you watch his internal monologue.

He looks back up at you. “My backpack,” he starts, voice low and soft like he’s letting you in on a secret. “It’s full of my notebooks. What would you save?”

Your cheeks ache from smiling so much. The truth, sincerity, and vulnerability of his words make your heart swell. “You know, I always think this question is hard, but it never is. My mind races through all the possibilities between my phone, my Harry Potter books, my laptop… But, I’ve got a box of loose photos under my bed. It’s full of pictures of my family. I’d save that.” He smiles at your answer, noting that you’re both sentimental. “Who were you worried about?” you ask, unable to keep the thought from your mind.

Bucky chuckles to himself before he licks his lips. “My friend Steve.”

Too cute. Oh, God, he’s too precious. Your heart is gonna give out before the night is over. “Do you have to save him often?”

He laughs again, mostly to himself. Like he’s got an inside joke. “Something like that. Steve’s also my teammate. It’s second nature to protect him. But, it’s–it’s more than that–he’s the only family I’ve got.” His eyes seem to cloud over with the weight of his words. You reach out, grasping his arm comfortingly.

He snaps back into focus as he looks at you, chuckling. “It’s my turn, isn’t it?” You nod and bite your lip as you watch him think up a question.

“Here we go!” you waiter has returned with your meals, causing you to jump slightly. You’d forgotten that you were in a restaurant with dozens of other people. It stunned you slightly to realize how enraptured you were with Bucky. He made you feel like you were the only two here. You’d never met someone like him. Before you realized it, your waiter was gone again after a final check to make sure everything was correct.

You and Bucky share another smile before cutting into your food. You had to consciously tell yourself to not moan in front of your date…but the food was just so damn good, you couldn’t listen to yourself. You laugh, realizing Bucky’s look of mild surprise was directed at you because you did, in fact, moan at the taste of your food. You blush and laugh, throwing an explanation his way. “I’m sorry, it’s just so good!”

He laughs, nodding in understanding. “I agree, this is amazing. Do you want to try mine?”

Your eyes widen. “Oh my god, can I? Do you want to try mine?” He laughs again and nods. You’re secretly relieved that he doesn’t try to feed you like some awkward cliche, but pushes his plate towards you and you do the same. You both make delighted groaning noises as you try the other’s food and laugh at each other.

“That’s great,” he offers around his mouthful of food.

You hide a laugh behind your hand. “Yours too.”

“Okay, it’s my turn. You gotta take three famous people to be stranded on a desert island with you. Who would you bring? Choose wisely.”

You cock your head to the side, laughing. “I thought you said you’d never played this game before. And ‘choose wisely?’ Is that supposed to sound ominous? It sounds kinda ominous.”

He licks his lip before biting it through his smile. As he releases it, you watch the color return to his flesh. “I didn’t know this game had a name, but I’ve played it before. Yes, you have to choose wisely! Your survival depends on who you choose.”

“So, you’re saying that I should just choose Jensen Ackles, Sam Wilson, and Bob Morely just because they’re cute?”

Bucky snorted into his drink, causing you to laugh, too. “You think Sam Wilson is cute?” He laughs, full and loud, before trying to cover it with his hand.

A blush creeps into your cheeks. “Of course I do! The Falcon is such a precious guy. I mean, I don’t know him personally; but hell yeah, I’d take him to this desert island. He’s gotta have some kind of survival skills, ya know?”

Bucky’s eyes sparkle with some kind of mischief and you wish you could box that look up and take it home with you. “So, are those your real choices?”

No, those aren’t my real choices! Give me a second!” you give the choices a lot of thought. Should you bring a food expert along, like Alton Brown? Or maybe someone who’s played a character on a stranded island, like Tom Hanks? This is hard. You know you want Bear Grylls on your team for sure. The other two options take a bit of thought, though. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay! I’ve made up my mind! Bear Grylls, Dwayne Johnson, and Steve Irwin.”

Bucky chuckles around another mouthful of food, questioning your choices. “I get Bear and even Steve Irwin, but Dwayne Johnson?”

“I feel like he’d be the crown jewel of my group. He’s strong, he’s smart, and he’s super nice, okay? He’d keep us all from killing each other.” Bucky claps a hand around his mouth again in an attempt to keep his laughter quiet. You curl your lips between your teeth as your shoulders shake with your on silent laughter. “Okay, smartass, who’s your team, then?”

Bucky wipes at his eyes as he composes himself. “Okay…woo, okay. Clyde Barrow, Babe Ruth, and the Winter Soldier.”

“The–? Wait.” You hold your hand up, face scrunching in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “I have questions for all three of them. How are you gonna survive with them?”

“Clyde is resourceful and cunning. And Babe–” just the adoration in Bucky’s eyes made you not want to question his choices. “Replace that bat in his hand with an axe. That’ll do some good, don't’cha think?”

You giggle and nod, the realization hitting you. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I can give you that. But, the Winter Soldier? How is an assassin gonna be any help on an island?”

“The Winter Soldier knows what he’s doing, alright? Objectively, he’s a solid choice as long as he doesn’t try to kill you.” He hides a smirk behind his glass.

You toss your head back and laugh. “Oh my god, Bucky, I can’t breathe!” When you’re able to control yourself, you say, “Okay, but there’s no way he could survive on that island. There’s no hair products there.”

Bucky’s brows contract as he tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“Look, the Winter Soldier’s powers come from his hair. They have to. Why else would it look flawless one hundred percent of the time? If there’s no hair products to keep him lookin’ good, poof! No powers. He’d just be a useless frizzball murder baby.”

It’s Bucky’s turn to toss his head back and laugh while you admire him. His laughter is contagious, as it has been all night. You can’t help but giggle along with him.

Time passes you both like this. You ask each other questions, usually giggling at one another’s answers or wanting deeper explanations, and eat (occasionally picking bits and pieces off each others plates).

Your laughter quiets down once as your waiter comes back to check on you both. You tell him that you’re fine; but after a glance at his watch, Bucky asks if he can get the check. You try to stop your heart dropping in your chest. Wasn’t he having a good time?

As if Bucky could hear you thinking, he smiles reassuringly at you once the waiter leaves. “Usually, I’d take my date out dancing after dinner; but, I’ve got a mission to go on first thing in the morning.”

The thought of him taking you dancing makes you curious, but you understand completely. You check your phone. It was–wow! It was nearly ten thirty! You ignore the fourteen messages you have from your friend asking how the date’s going, and look back up at Bucky. “No, that’s understandable! I’m sorry I’ve kept you out so long!”

His hand covers yours, a tingle shoots up your arm. You peek up at him though your lashes, feeling your cheeks heat up again at the intensity of his gaze. “I would do this again in a heartbeat.”

You bite your lip, trying and failing to conceal your smile. “Me, too.”

Bucky takes out his wallet and tosses a few bills on the table before he leads you out of the restaurant, his hand sneaking its way around yours. You’re both quiet, reluctant to let the night end. But once you make it out to the busy street, you turn to Bucky, ready to ask him for his number.

“Do you live close by?” He asks before you get the chance to ask your question. “Can I walk you home? Or should I call a cab for you?”

Ugh, that gentle smile is going to do you in. Your heart thumps erratically in your chest at the thought of him walking you home. Your friends would absolutely kill you if they knew you’d say yes to that offer; to be walked home by a stranger. But, he’s not a stranger. Not anymore. Bucky’s tongue passes over his lip nervously before drawing it between his teeth again. You beam at him, taking a deep breath before answering, “I’d love it if you walked me home, Bucky.”

His reciprocating smile makes a blush creep up your neck as he holds his arm out. You link your hands around it and lean a little closer into him. “Okay, Bucky, what’s your favorite month?” you ask as he leads you easily through the throngs of people.

He chuckles, secretly ecstatic that you’re still asking him questions. “December,” he says resolutely. “I love the lights and the music. And everyone seems to be kinder around the holidays.”

You hum, hugging his arm a little closer to you. “Mine’s December, too. You hit the nail on the head.”

You arrive to your apartment complex sooner than you’d like. Releasing Bucky from your hold, you try to push away the disappointment that’s starting to bubble up. “I had a good time tonight, Bucky. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Doll. And thanks to Matthew and Evelyn, wherever they are!” He calls out into the city.

You giggle at this and grab his arm, stepping closer to him. “Can I see you again?” you ask timidly.

His eyes soften as he smiles. “I’d like that. Can I kiss you?” he asks, just as shy.

You glance over to your doorman, Reggie, who is acting as nonchalant as possible and it makes you laugh. “I’d like that,” you repeat, “if…you let me put my number in your phone.” Your eyes dart between his piercing blue gaze and his luscious lips, biting at your own when he beams at you. He pulls the device from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to you. You punch in your number with ease and hand the phone back to Bucky.

His hand slides up, thumbing at your jaw. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you watch Bucky drink you in. His eyes scan every inch of your face, finally landing on your mouth. When he starts leaning in, you forget how to breathe for a moment. Panicking, you say, “I don’t usually kiss on the first date.”

He pulls back enough to look you in the eyes. There’s so much warmth and happiness there, you think he could probably make your heart stop with the look. “I don’t either.” His eyes fall shut, both hands now cupping your jaw.

Your breath escapes your lungs as he inches forward. “You’re gonna call me, right?”

His eyes are still closed for a beat as he chuckles at you. His eyes open as he says your name in a playfully scolding tone. “Let me kiss you, Doll.”

Before you can answer, Bucky’s lips are soft and insistent against yours. A surprised noise escapes from your throat as your hands come up to clamp onto his forearms, anchoring yourself to him. This must be what heaven feels like, you think before you start to feel drunk on Bucky. The way his lips move against yours, slow and purposeful. His tongue brushes across your bottom lip, silently begging you to open up. You do, smiling into the kiss as his tongue tangles with yours.

He pulls away slowly, watching your blissed out expression, before swooping back in for another chaste kiss and a chuckle. “I’ll call you soon, Dollface.”

“Okay.” But, he doesn’t move. Your smile grows the longer he stands there, just staring at you; your face still between his palms. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for…if he’s waiting for anything. “Be safe on your mission tomorrow.”

That seems to snap him out of it. “The mission. Right. I will.” He lets you go, smiling widely as you head to the door. “I-I’ll call you later, okay? Have a good night.”

You wave at him as he makes his way back the way you two had come from. Stalling. That’s what you’re doing. You want to see him as long as possible until he turns that corner… You bite your lips, remembering the feel of his kiss.

“If I may, Miss, you’re completely smitten.”

You turn to Reggie, who’s been watching you as you watched Bucky, and you feel your face growing hot. “Oh, stop it, Reg!” Your shy smile gives everything away.

Your phone chirps in your purse. You suddenly feel bad for ignoring your friend all night and feel the need to call her to explain what happened.

You pull your phone out, smile growing when you see a text from an unknown number. “Hey, it’s later…can I call you?”

You cradle the device to your chest, smiling wider than you had all night. You were so glad you were stood up tonight.


End file.
